


this is love, this is hell

by 9crimes



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: A Lot Of Masturbation, F/M, JUST, Masturbation, canon up to 2x23
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-03 21:34:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2888696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/9crimes/pseuds/9crimes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As he gets to know her, the fantasies change. He starts to think about what she’d say, how she’d react, what she’d smell like and taste like...</p>
            </blockquote>





	this is love, this is hell

**Author's Note:**

> over 1K words of Oliver thinking about fucking Felicity. Possibly more of this to be written, but it's been sitting in my docs for so long I decided to just post it

The first time Oliver thinks about fucking Felicity, he doesn't really know her. Which kind of makes him feel like an asshole, but, well, it just kind of happens. He’s in the shower, already in the midst of his usual morning jerk-off session (and yes looking back he realizes how strange it was for him to actually schedule masturbating. It was a weird time in his life, whatever) when the image of Felicity in her pencil skirt and mary janes appears unbidden in his mind.

Later he’ll blame it on the fact that he was already hard and therefore not really thinking straight and well, Felicity is a beautiful girl with a great ass and a sexy librarian vibe going on, so yea he lets himself think about it (and also, he’s an asshole. He’s pretty aware of that by this point in his life).

It’s not really sexual at first, she’s just sitting there in front of her computer, typing away. She has a pen in her mouth, just like the first time he met her (he’s not sure why he remembers that little detail. But he does).

Then her office morphs into his bedroom at the mansion and she’s sitting on his bed instead of in her desk chair and her fingers are playing with the buttons of her pink blouse instead of typing furiously and  _fuck_ her ponytail/glasses combo does it for him. Like  _really does it for him._

The rest is kind of cliché, since he doesn’t really know her yet. She’s all giggles and soft moans, innocent and shy leading up to the sex but dirty as fuck once they get down to it. She sucks his dick like a pro and he comes into his hand at just the thought of her cherry lips wrapped around him.

He feels a little weird about it, the next time he sees her. But then she says something both brilliant and adorable and he just – she’s pretty great. Intelligent is an understatement, funny as hell, shares in his desire to protect and serve (if she doesn’t completely agree with his methods, she’s coming around. Or he’s coming around. Probably more the last one). She also happens to be fucking gorgeous. He’d be worried about himself if he  _didn’t_ have the occasional sexual fantasy.

 

 

 

As he gets to know her, the fantasies change. He starts to think about what she’d say, how she’d react, what she’d smell like and taste like. It becomes less about him thinking about fucking a pretty girl, and more about him thinking about fucking  _Felicity._

They also become less an occasional thing and more a….well way more than occasional thing.

 

 

 

She apparently bought a whole new fucking wardrobe while he was back on the island for 5 months so yea that’s  _awesome._

The first day she works as his EA she wears this completely unfair grey dress. And heels. Fuck, the heels are new too. She’s also pissed off at him all day and he feels bad about it, he really does. But he doesn’t see any other way. And there’s part of him that likes having her close, likes having a plausible excuse to know where she is during the day. Her fixing up the foundry the way she did, putting so much effort into it, even when he wasn’t around…fuck, he feels guilty. She’s committed. He remembers what he said to Digg, what he promised Digg. He needs her safe and protected, and how’s he supposed to do that when he doesn’t even have a way to have eyes on her 9 hours out of the day? (Looking back, it was a really asshole thing to do. And a little weirdly obsessive and a little just plain weird. So in other words completely in character for him).

That night he thinks about fucking her on his brand new shiny office desk. She calls him Mr. Queen then rolls her eyes and he laughs for the first time in 5 months.

Then he bends her over his desk, her breasts pressing into the glass, and pushes that tight dress up over her hips. He doesn’t even take his pants off, just pulls his cock out and fucks her. Her ass is just…really fucking amazing. His hand pumps faster as he thinks about watching it bounce as he slams into her.

He whispers to her how much he missed her and how many times he thought about this while he was away and if it’s weird that he’s telling her he fantasized about her in his actual fantasy about her, he doesn’t care.

When he imagines her turning her head, looking him in the eye and saying ‘I missed you too’ he’s done for.

 

 

When she’s in Central City for an entire fucking week he becomes kind of obsessed with the idea of eating her out.

His go-to scenario isn’t anything fancy, doesn’t even happen in a specific place, it’s just her with her legs spread wide and his head between them. Her nails dig into his shoulders or scrape the top of his head, holding him to her. Which isn’t even necessary because fuck, there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

He thinks she’d like it nice and steady, maybe a finger or two to help things along when she gets close.

He thinks she’d talk him through it, tell him exactly what she wants, how to touch her. And he’d do it too, fuck, he pretty much stays alive by taking direction from her. No reason to think it’d be any different here.

He thinks she’d probably taste more spicy than sweet.

Thinking about the way she’d taste makes him come every time.

 

 

 

After Slade it gets out of fucking control.

Every day that she doesn’t catch him with a hard-on is a great day in his opinion, because pretty much anything gets him going.

He’s pretty sure it’s because he’s in love with her.

Like,  _really in love with her._

The fantasies don’t stop when he comes or she comes. He thinks about how it would feel to fall asleep with her hair fanned out across his chest, tickling his chin. He wonders if she sleeps on her right or left side, pictures her putting her arms around him during the night, her little hands on his biceps.

But his favorite is imagining her first thing in the morning, like before-she’s-had-her-first-cup-of-coffee first thing in the morning. There’d be sleep in her eyes, and she’d curse like a sailor at him when he pulled her on top of him. She’d smile into his lips though, because his breath stinks and so does hers and neither of them give a fuck.

They’d kiss like that for a while, lazy and comfortable, like they don’t both have high pace jobs to get to. Then she’d groan ‘ugh this is taking too much effort’ and tumble onto her side, pulling him closer so his cock is pressed against her ass.

It’s the details that get him these days, her hand reaching back and grabbing his, the smell of her shampoo in his nostrils (which he is very, very familiar with), the sound of his name on her lips.

He’s at his most delusional in the few minutes after he comes, ‘I can do this’ he thinks ‘I can be with her, this can work’. He plans out entire speeches, dates, hell one time he wrote a text to her and used a damn heart emoticon or whatever the fuck.

He talks himself out of it every time.


End file.
